Heroism
by Birdy21
Summary: "We can't all be heroes, because somebody has to sit on the curb and applaud when they go by." - Saving Peter Pevensie never seemed like such a likely task...Until now Peter/OFC Repost
1. Dust Bunnies

**Disclaimer: Do not own anything created by C.S Lewis. Merely tapping into his world to vent.**

**A/N: This story has been posted before under my previous FF account Lov3good. Unfortunately I do NOT have access to it anymore so I created a new account to continue some of my stories. THIS IS NOT PLAGIARISM. I repeat NOT PLAGIARISM! Now that's over with, I hope you people will like the semi different turn I'm taking with this story. And hopefully some old fans will come back. **

**-**_Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.  
__**- Will Rogers**_

**Dust Bunnies **

A wisp of dust bunnies ran amuck in every exposed corner of the attic. There were drapes covering every piece of furniture and boxes littering every inch of space, occupying the "what used to be massive" attic. I could see it in William's eyes that he did not want to do this. But nor did anyone else and since he was the eldest of the family, there was a certain responsibility that demanded him to man up and wear his big boy's trousers. At least I'd be there to hold his hand.

It had been a week since his grandmother's funeral and now it was time for us to sort out her attic. Will's blue eyes were moving swiftly through the attic and his blond hair could only cover up his frown by an inch. I let out a sigh and gave his hand one last gentle squeeze before moving past him towards the drapes, that was hiding the sun from our view. As I pushed away the curtains, dust rained down upon me and I could not help but notice that there was a certain chill in the air. One that wasn't supposed to be here. Maybe it had to do with the fact we were in a dead person's house.

"It's been years since I last been here." Will suddenly said. I turned around and was surprised to see how dirty the attic actually was. I knew that Susan Broderick, also known as William's grandmother, didn't have the time to actually go clean her attic, especially at the age of eighty-three but never in my life had I thought it would be such a mess. It completely contradicted Susan's lifestyle.

I put my hands on my hips and tilted my head to the side. Will was taking her death rather hard. Worse than I had expected. I knew they were close. He was even named after Susan's older brother Peter who had died in 1949 in a train crash with his two younger siblings Edmund and Lucy. Apparently Will was an exact copy of Peter Pevensie. Though I had never seen it myself. Susan refused to show any pictures of her siblings. Their death far too tragic and too painful to be constantly reminded of.

"Will." I began and I quickly closed the distant between us and wrapped his arms around him. "You don't have to do this." I murmured against his clean crisp shirt. There was a lingering of cinnamon in the air as I breathed in scent, a certain musk mixed with spice. "I can do this alone if you want to." He shook his head and grabbed my arms, pushing me away from him.

"Dad asked me to. Besides, I want to." He moved past me and grabbed one of the boxes that were on a desk and started to empty its contents. I let out a sigh.

In all the years I've been friends with William Peter Broderick there had never been a time in which he was able to lie to me. His face was like an open book that you couldn't just pass by and not notice. And there were times in which I knew more than he gave me credit for.

Twelve years of friendship and no exclamation of love in sight.

The two of us worked through the masses of boxes and portraits. Once I came across a photo album but Will had snatched that out of my hands and had told me that he wanted to look at it later on. I merely shrugged and continued investigating his grandmother's stuff. She had many things that I admired. Beauty, (I had seen an old photo of her with her late husband Anthony) strength and a mind, one that would be expressed with her sharp tongue. I suppose she finally found her Anthony again, along with her siblings.

"Say Will." I began. The sun was making the attic bright and colourful, not to mention incredibly dirty as the dust was far too obvious now. I leant against one of the boxes and turned around to see that Will had discarded his warm jumper, leaving him in a black shirt. I blinked.

The fact I had fancied Will for a long time was no secret. Just for him, for some reason men could be incredible blind not to mention ignorant when it came to games involving someone's heart. We were both twenty-one, far past the age of being little kids on the playground. But every single time I got close on confessing on what he means to me I close up and find myself crawling back into the hole I had hidden those feelings in the first place. And Will never suspected anything.

"Yeah." His voice was gruff. His back was still turned to me and I slightly shook my head. Fazed by my silence Will turned around and frowned. "What is it, Chloe?" I shrugged.

"Nothing, I j-just..." I stammered dryly before trailing off. Already used to my short attention span Will shook his head as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

It was one of my favourite smiles of him. Though if I was honest, I loved all his smiles. There was not one that wouldn't cease to make my heart flutter as if it was being chased. That was how it felt, like I was being chased by something that would eventually grab a hold of me. I was only prolonging the inevitable.

Will looked at his watch and cursed. "What?"

"I was supposed to call Allison." My insides froze and I scoffed internally. Allison _fucking_ Monro. Will's study partner. Although I knew that Allison was dying to be more than just s_tudy partners_. And I knew she knew how I felt about him. Which didn't help at all because she would do anything to keep me away from Will's radar.

"I'm sure she'll understand." I muttered loud enough for him to hear. I caught a glance of his surprised expression as I turned my back on him again.

"Y-yeah, suppose so." Will replied and I heard him stand up, his feet moving towards the attic door. "But I'm going to call her to be sure."

"Yeah, sure." I whispered as the door closed behind him. I stood up and felt the pulling of my muscles in my lower back. I guess sitting in one attitude wouldn't do my body any good. I let out a small sigh and tried to ignore the stammering in my stomach, the knots that seemed to be tightening every single second. I could hear Will's voice in the hall, the house was so quiet that there was no certain way of getting any privacy.

As I dropped another empty box in the corner I caught sight of the photo album lying on the desk. I could see from all the way here that the pages were old and withered, yellow to behold. And there was a layer of dust covering the cover of the album. I strained my ears and heard Will's soft hum moving up the stairs, he was far too preoccupied to be noticing my antics.

I grabbed the album and blew to get rid of the dust. I sneezed almost immediately afterwards as the dust lingered in the air and attacked my nostrils. I moved to the other side of the attic and sat down on the lone chair that occupied the space. It screeched beneath my weight and I prayed it would not give away and make such a ruckus in the mean time.

I opened the album and was first confronted with a picture of a woman and a man. You could see that it was an old picture, and not just because it was in black and white. But also because of the way they dressed. Though I had to admit that the woman was absolutely beautiful. Her dark hair and eyes were penetrating and I read the small imprint beneath the photograph.

_Peter Pevensie Senior and Helen Pevensie_

So this were Susan's parents and William's Great-grandparents. There was also a date engraved at the top of the page.

_1921_

That was ninety years ago. I let out a small sigh and ran my fingers over the picture. It was odd to think that there were people who had lived their lives before ours had even started. Or maybe I was just self-centred, only obsessed with what happened in my life. But honestly, it was easier to care for something so near than to think of the things that happened so many years ago to someone who wasn't here anymore.

Pushing away the lump of nostalgia I moved to the next page. The photographs there were all filled with an old London house and pictures of little children. I assumed it were the Pevensie children. Susan's childhood. The next few pages were all filled with pictures of them being small children. Names were scribbled beneath the photographs.

_Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy. _

They all seemed so real now. I bit my lip when suddenly the door opened and Will got back. He halted in his steps as he saw me with the album and for some odd reason I felt horribly guilty for going behind his back.

"I w-was just looking at some of the pictures." I explained lamely and I could see that Will was surprised but angry at the same time.

"You mind if I looked at them with you?" His request caught me off guard but at least I wasn't struck dumb. I nodded and he made his way to me. "Move over a bit." He ordered me and I made some space for him. I held onto the album as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, keeping me steady. My shoulder burned as our proximity made me go dizzy.

"That's my grandmother on her wedding day." I smiled at the picture. There was happiness in this picture. Susan's husband smiling brilliantly as she kept her smile more coy. Though if you looked closely, there was something else there too. A certain kind of sadness that could stretch for miles and miles. I'm sure that Will saw that too.

"She looks so pretty." I murmured and I felt rather than heard Will agree. "Are there more pictures of her?" Peter shrugged.

"Let's see." Was all he said as the two of us went through the album together. The pictures were scattered all through the album, there was no time line or anything of the sorts. They were all placed randomly, hence the picture we had now was of William's father when he was a child.

_Rupert Broderick 1959_

"Look at your dad." I exclaimed. "He was so cute." Will laughed at that and I couldn't help myself but join him.

"Don't let him hear you say that." I held up my hand.

"Cross my heart." Our eyes met and our smiles evaporated slowly. There was a sudden shift in the air, one that thickened our oxygen.

Will was the one to interrupt our moment by going to the next page. I tried to fight the disappointment and for some odd reason tears.

"And this was Peter Pevensie." I blinked as I watched the photograph.

"You look exactly like him." I breathed out. I ran my finger over the texture and felt the smooth paper beneath my skin. There was no way denying that Will was the exact copy of Peter Pevensie.

The picture was taken in 1949. The year in which he died. It was a spontaneous picture. He was talking to a woman whose face was all blurred but you could see the love in his eyes. Though that was not all. There was more to it and I would be lying if I didn't confess I was eager to know. I also wanted to know why the woman was so blurry in the picture. It seemed odd for such a clear picture to have a blind spot like that.

"Who was that woman?" I asked out loud. Will shrugged.

"I don't have a clue." I turned to him. Surprised that Will had averted his looks.

"Surely your grandmother must've mentioned something, right?" I persisted and Will shrugged again. His blasé manner was really getting beneath my skin. The fact he was so oblique about everything made me angry. When he shook his head I dropped against his arm and let out a sigh. "Honestly, Will."

"Look, I don't know, alright?" Will burst out. "My grandmother wasn't fond of talking of the past. Especially with one who looked so much like her dead brother. And I never questioned her about her because I felt sorry for her."

I frowned. "Why?" I questioned him. "It's not your fault you look so much like Peter, or is it now?"

Will snatched the album out of my hands and got up. I could feel his anger from all the way here. His mannerism betrayed his feelings. But not just that. It was everything nowadays that could tick Will off. And it seemed I was the catalyst today.

"So you're just going to walk away?" I asked. "Is that it?"

"Chloe!" Will turned around and he raised his hands. "Just shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about so just don't, okay?" I blinked taken back.

"Then enlighten me." I retorted. "Because I can't read minds."

"Well that's not the only thing you can't read." Will shot back and I held in my breath. I got off the chair and crossed my arms, trying to keep the burning in my eyes from showing.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." Will continued. "Stop trying to make me talk. You're constantly hovering and frankly I'm sick of it."

"Well excuse me for caring? You're my best friend Will. You used to tell me everything. So when you shut me out like that I'm bound to get curious." I fought back weakly. "If you had been upfront with me from the start then perhaps I wouldn't be such a nag." Will rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face, covering his eyes momentarily.

"You don't get it." He finally said and I scoffed.

"Of course I don't get it." I hissed. "Because I'm not Allison."

"Allison?" Will repeated stunned. "What does this have to do with her?" I shrugged casually and averted my eyes.

Will's ignorance was like a stab to the heart. How could he have not known this?

"Never mind, alright? Just forget I said something." I tried to move past him but Will grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me back to him.

"No, let's not." He retorted. "Just what exactly is your problem?" I bit my tongue to keep it all inside. I wouldn't snap at Will, not today, not here. He shook me again and I realised his grip was far too tight.

"Will, stop it." I tried to pull away my hand. "You're hurting me." He let go of me in a split second and I stumbled backwards. "And my problem is you not seeing what's in front of you for all these years."

Those words came out before I even realised I had said them. Even Will was surprised because I could feel his eyes burn a hole in my body. So I had finally said it. Which now meant I had to elaborate and I was a terrible person when it came to elaborating. Oh, why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?

"What?" Will's voice sounded shaky, but that could've been me.

Downstairs the front door slammed shut and I jumped startled.

"Will? Chloe?" Rupert's voice carried all the way to the attic and I let out a sigh. Will's dad. Now we certainly wouldn't have the time to discuss my blurting out irrelevant things. "Where are you two?"

"I'll be back." Will said and he quickly left the attic, descending the stairs as if a truck was behind him. "Dad?" his voice lost the volume of before and I let out a relieved sigh, closing the attic door behind him.

"Just great." I muttered beneath my breath and I turned around. My back against the door. I could hit myself for being so careless. I should stop wearing my heart on my sleeve like that. It only lead to unnecessary conflicts that could be avoided if I wanted. _Fuck_.

I crossed my arms, my cold hands making me feel even worse. I bit my lip and tried to stop the flow of tears brimming over. Distract yourself. That's what I should do and I noticed another box on top of a massive closet. I frowned, I hadn't seen that before. Will and I had cleared most of them, the empty boxes in the corner. I grabbed the chair and hauled myself on it.

I pushed myself onto my toes and reached for the box, the chair already screeching beneath my weight. _Oh please_. If he was able to hold me and Will sitting on it, then I was sure it could hold me standing on it. I felt the tips of my fingers brush against the cardboard when the door opened again and Will stumbled inside.

"Dad's here to- CHLOE?" Will's presence had caught me off guard and I found myself toppling sideways, losing balance quicker than thought. I put my hands in front of me to soften the blow but my head slammed against the attic floor anyways and a sharp pain filled my head, spreading down my body like poison.

There were lots of words being said, sounds that only hurt me more and I found myself on my back as Will's blue eyes peered down at me. The alarm not going past me.

So he does care.

I could feel the edges of my vision blacken as Will's words barely registered in my mind.

"_Fuck_, Chloe, hold on!" He ordered me. "Hold on."His hand was on my cheek and inch by inch the blackness took hold of everything surrounding me. His eyes the only vivid blue I could distinguish before I slowly closed my eyes.

_**XXXXXXXXXX**_

I could feel drops of rain on my cheek and I flinched, trying to raise my hand to my face. It was as if a radio was being tuned up because one second I couldn't hear anything when the next everything around me was filled with noises. Cars, people talking, just common noises found outside. I frowned, I couldn't be outside, I was with Will, and I was rather certain we were _in_side. I fluttered my eyes, trying to open my eyes.

"_-Look, she's coming to!"_

My eyes snapped open and I gasped as the bright grey sky came in view, feeling the flat surface as its coldness seeped through the fabric of my clothes.

"Chloe?" Will's voice was soft, tinged with concern as I found myself being pulled upright, my head cushioned on one's shoulder. "Are you alright, love?" His hands moved to my waist and I shivered, realising it was raining.

"Wh-what happened?" I stammered and I blinked a few times before putting my hands down. There were people around me. All suited in grey, it was almost as if they were trying to blend in with the sky. I knew London was always grey, but it was what I loved about it. You could add some colour to your own wardrobe and it would look absolutely lovely.

"You had a bit of a spell, dear." A female voice rang in the air. One I didn't recognise at all. My eyes searched for the source and they settled on a woman with dark brown hair, the same colour reflected in her eyes. I blinked, there was something familiar about her. Yet it was far too distant and my head felt too fuzzy to actually strain it, so I refrained from doing so.

"Why are we outside?" I murmured, trying to see where we were, shifting my eyes around those who had all witnessed my apparent spell. My eyes settled on Will again and I could see that he was all dressed in grey too. A frown was all it took for him to understand something was up.

"Chloe, we-" Will began but the dark lady interrupted him.

"Peter, let's get her inside, I do not like the colour she's turning." Will didn't hesitate when he lifted me up in a heartbeat, manoeuvring through the throng with ease.

I frowned, why was Will listening to this stranger? Despite the familiarity Will wasn't one to actually listen to anyone but himself. And what did she call him? She even had his name all wrong. Yet he listened.

"Will, who's that?" I grumbled lowly. My head was throbbing loudly, I could hear it reverberate in my ears. "And where are you taking me?"

Will's eyes descended on me, and his sharp blue eyes stood grimly, as his mouth. The corners pulled down.

"Quickly now." The woman was back and before I knew it Will had carried me into a shop. It was dim and the air was stuffy, as if there was a heaviness laced in the oxygen. I took a shuddering breath as Will carried me up the stairs, through a dark hallway before finally reaching a room.

"Put her down, Peter."

For some reason I couldn't help myself. "Why do you keep calling him Peter?" My voice was sharper than I had meant for it to be.

Her dark eyes stood confused as she eyed me and Will set me down.

"That's my name love." Will replied and I frowned, before shaking my head.

"Not it's not!" I argued back. "Is this some sort of joke?" I questioned. "You don't even like the name Peter! It reminds you of..." I trailed off slowly when suddenly I saw everything in perspective. "Oh God!"

"Chloe?" Will's voice was echoing near my ear and I found his hand on my cheek, his fingertips rough yet gentle in touch. "What's wrong?"

"Peter." I whispered as I realised that this wasn't Will. There was a heaviness pulling me down as I was looking at things from a different aspect again. The confusion even more prominent than before as spots lingered with more vigour than before.

"_Chloe?"_

I felt as if we'd been here before...

**A/N: Reviews are love...**


	2. The World Has Left Me Behind Here

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, just the characters you don't recognise.

**A/N:** As you may see I've decided to take this story a different direction than originally planned. However, I still hope you'll like it. For those who recognise this story, I had posted it under my old penname Lov3good. But I don't have access to it anymore because I changed my email address and then didn't activate the link which means that don't know how to get on that account. So I made a new account, one on which I might post old stories that have been posted before. But just to let you guys know, it's not plagiarism. For those who haven't read the story before, I hope you enjoy it. To those who PMed me, I'm so sorry it took this long to update, I have a very busy schedule and I barely get time to sleep, let alone write.

**-** _"Better to sink beneath the shock than moulder piecemeal on the rock"  
__**- Lord Byron**_

**The World Has Left Me Behind Here**

The sharp tang of ammonia had brought me back. It clung to my ability to smell and I found it hard to find anything else pleasant due to the scent of ammonia. After that there was a sharp light, shining in my eyes as I found cold hands touching my face. I didn't cringe and move away. I was rather certain that all of this, was merely part of a rather vivid dream. I only had to sit still, let them to their job and wait till this dream was finished, so I would be able to move on. With that I meant wake up. However, the longer the poking and prodding took place, the less I was convinced it was a dream. Not that any of my dreams had ever been this vivid and I could certainly recall there was always a sense of floating in every single dream I have had. This however, was no dream. This was something else.

"_Perhaps you should step out of the room, Peter."_ That name.

"No!"

Those were apparently my words because vivid grey eyes looked at me, they were kind, gentle and oozed genuine concern. But it wasn't what I was looking for. My eyes were focused on the tall, blond. Standing in the corner with his arms crossed, wrinkling his grey suit. I knew Will wasn't fond of wearing suits, so I had excluded the possibility of a joke. On the other hand, what kind of explanation would there be, without me being cast aside in a straitjacket?

Exactly, none whatsoever. Because this person in front of me could not be Peter. Not the Peter I _thought_ he was. Because I wasn't thinking at all. I was just looking at him and the only person I could see was Will. Not Peter. Not his grandmother's brother. Who was dead...

"Chloe, dear." The stranger sat down next to me, putting her hand on my bare arm. I hadn't realised I was cold but the second her hand touched my skin I shivered.

"I want to leave." I murmured hoarsely. "Get me out of here." There was a tinge of madness in my voice. I was standing on the edge myself and I had no clue how to make sense of what had happened in a short amount of time.

I had fallen down. Apparently I hit my head or maybe I wasn't the one that had hit her head. Maybe it was Will, who now thought he was Peter.

Yes I can admit the resemblance between the two was uncanny. But this was ridiculous.

"Helen, may I have a word?" The gentle, grey-eyed doctor requested and the stranger stood up. So I reckon she was Helen.

Helen, as in Helen Pevensie? I blinked quickly as she followed him out of the room, standing in the doorway. Their hushed voices were rather distracting and I couldn't care less about what was being said, despite I was obviously the topic of discussion.

A glass of water appeared before me and I followed the hand till I reached Will's face... Or should I say Peter?

"Small sips." I blinked a few times. Even his voice was slightly altered. Perhaps a bit rougher around the edges. Peter sat down next to me and gently held the glass near my lips as I took a sip. The cool water was a relief for my throat, I knew I should've thought of it before, but it hadn't crossed my mind.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked cautiously and I nodded. He set down the glass before standing up, but not after giving me a brief peck on the forehead. I frowned, this was unlike Will. He almost never initiated contact unless it was a rather delicate situation in which I often required some comfort. Other than that, we were just best friends.

And that was it.

**XXXX**

I had resorted to feigning sleep. I was that desperate for some peace and quiet that the second they had dragged me inside the house I supposedly lived in. Worst part of it all, I actually recognised the house. It was the childhood home of Susan Pevensie. I had never been here myself, but the pictures left behind showed plenty for me to actually notice it. The room they put me in was old-fashioned. Naturally it was, it was the 1940's, if that was even true. Everything was old-fashioned compared to what I was used to back in 2011. However, it was comfortable. The blue tinged wallpaper, the bed with the cream coloured quilt and the curtains that blocked out the dreary weather outside. Though the rain trickling on the window was not to be ignored and increased the throbbing headache I seemed to have.

I had to get out of here. But how the bloody hell was I going to get out of here when I didn't even know how I ended up here in the first place. It wasn't as if I could drive back home and be rid of everything. I wasn't in the London I knew. Hell, I wasn't even in the right era, I bet I wouldn't be able to drive a car here.

What was I doing here? Why was I here? And why did Peter know who I was.

I pushed myself upright rather abruptly and as my head spun I stumbled out of the bed and towards the hall. If Peter knew who I was he would also know that I wasn't from this time. He'd probably admit to being William and say this was some stupid joke he pulled. He rather went through a lot of trouble to pull it off but it could be the only rational explanation. We couldn't really be in 1948, could I?

My hand was wrapped around the doorknob but I found myself pulling away.

What if it wasn't a dream?

Suddenly the door opened and I stumbled backwards, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You're up." Peter's voice was surprised and I reckon I looked like a terrified bird. Honestly said, I had no clue how to react to whatever it is he said to me because half of didn't register in my mind and the other half felt like gibberish because he wasn't talking to me, or at least, I assumed he wasn't talking to me. I wasn't who thought I was.

And he most certainly wasn't who I thought he was, or wanted to be. Even though both of them weren't the same person in the first place.

"Y-yeah." I stammered and I pushed my hair behind my ears. "I was just feeling better and thought of getting some air." I could see Peter's eyes move to the window in the room, the rain was drumming against it with a steady beat. The corner of his mouth pulled up though his eyes held some confusion, if not concern.

"I thought you might want that." He replied, the mirth apparent in his eyes and I swallowed thickly.

This awkward silence washed over us and I realised I did not know how to behave towards him. How I should was something I had no idea of finding out, partly because I was frightened that it might scare me. Sometimes it was better not knowing where you stood, it could only complicate things. Especially in this situation, it was already complex enough, I was not in the mood to make it even more difficult.

"Chloe." Peter's voice rang in my thoughts like a loud bell and I glanced at him again. The hand on my cheek caught me off guard. His thumb stroking my cheekbone even more.

"I really need some air." I pushed past him and found myself standing in the hall with the stairs leading downstairs. I could hear the voices falter slightly as I descended the stairs rapidly. Helen looked at me with a surprised look on her face and my eyes turned to the girl standing next to her. Her hair was dark and her eyes blue. I didn't have to guess to know who this was.

Susan Pevensie.

"Susan." I whispered lowly. But enough for her to hear me. She gave me a small smile before reaching out to me, grasping my arm tightly.

"Chloe, are you alright?" She asked. I nodded fervently.

"Yeah." Sounding practically out of breath. "Fine, just need some air." Again I could see them frown as their eyes moved to the nearest window. The rain was still pouring, just like five minutes ago.

"Perhaps you should just lay down, I'll bring you supper." Helen said kindly. There was something maternal going on here. I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Where's your ring dear?" Helen grabbed hold of my hand and I frowned.

"Ring?" I must've sounded completely befuddled because she gave me half a shocked and worried look and I felt silly for reacting like that.

"Your engagement ring dear, does Peter have it?"

"No need to worry, mum. It's here." Peter's voice came from behind and I stumbled backwards, his hands on my waist as he steadied me. He gave me a pointed look that told me to just go along with it. Helen smiled at Peter, relief clear on her face.

"Oh thank God. You should put it on." She told me. "After all, you're are engaged." The smile on her face felt out of place, or maybe it was just me that was out of place. I assumed it was definitely the latter but I had no idea how to react on it.

Nausea churned in my stomach as spots littered my vision. My fingers curled around the banister. Engaged? How could I be engaged?

**XXXXXXX**

Trying to resist the urge to hit my head against the wall was difficult, but it was better than going downstairs and facing everyone else. I was back in time, or something like that. Or maybe this was indeed a very vivid dream. But I had no clue how to wrap my head around it. I pushed my head deeper into the pillow and pulled the covers over my head, my hands fisting the material tightly. There were many things I felt like doing, none of them included making sense of this ridiculous spectacle.

I was supposed to be in London, on the floor in William's grandmother's attic. I was supposed to be in 2011, not in 1948. This was plain ridiculous and there was no logical explanation that could possibly explain what the hell happened. The past didn't have any means to be travelled towards to, nor did I want it in the first place.

There was a knock on the door and I shut my eyes. Maybe if I didn't reply they would leave me alone. I'd be able to wait here till I was send back.

"Chloe?" I guess I wasn't going to get what I want.

I could feel the mattress sink beneath Peter's weight as he slightly peeled the covers off of me, exposing my face. His hand was pushing away the strands of hair and for the first time since I landed up here I felt the urge to cry. My chest hurt with all the emotions running amuck and my eyes welled up tears.

"Chloe? What's wrong?" Peter's voice was gentle but the confusion was apparent. Not only in his face but also in every way he carried himself. He didn't understand me. Like he didn't know me and that was the truth. He didn't know me.

Nor did I know him because as much as I would want it to be, this wasn't Will. He would never be Will no matter how much I would try. This was Peter Pevensie. I knew now.

"I don't know where I am." I confessed, the tears brimmed over and stained the pillow case. "Where am I?"

"You're home." He answered and I shook my head. I pushed myself up on my elbows and properly sat down.

"I'm not home." I continued. A sob escaped my mouth and I found myself letting go. "This is your home." I clarified. "You're not Will." Loose sentences with no actual meaning left my mouth and I truly knew that I wasn't making any sense to him.

"Chloe, I don't know what happened today. But you are home. This is your home." Peter emphasised as he grabbed hold of my arms, pulling me towards him.

"No." I shook my head. "No it's not. And I'm not who you think I am." I could see that I had Peter here. He shook his head in confusion as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Will did that too.

"Then who are you?" I could hear the joke in it. Peter's blue eyes were dark and in this room even darker. The rain was still pouring down and for a split second I felt completely and utterly unaware of where I was. Just a little while.

"I don't know who I am here." And that was actually the truth.

**A/N:** Please review, I would love to hear from you guys :)


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